


and now we're grown-up orphans (that never knew their names)

by Anonymous



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Shadow Children Fusion, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy Friendship, Families of Choice, Family, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, POV Octavia Blake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 10:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: In a world where every person is allowed to have only one child, Octavia Blake has lived her whole life in hiding. But when she's nineteen, she gets the salvation she'd given up on: a new identity.Specifically, the identity of the recently deceased Josephine Griffin.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin & Raven Reyes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: TROPED: Madness 2.0





	and now we're grown-up orphans (that never knew their names)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it is round 1 of Troped Madness 2021 guys! We've got **Octavia Blake** for our focus character, **New Adult** for our theme, and **roommates** and **based on a kids' book series** for our tropes! So when you're done reading this, please head over to Troped so you can read the other contributions!
> 
> Apologies in advance for any tense inconsistencies - I tried to write this in the present tense, but the story did not always agree with that. Also, advance apologies for any plot inconsistencies, because I changed my mind about the plotline at least four times mid-story.
> 
> P.S. title is from Name by Goo Goo Dolls, which is, lyrically speaking, weirdly accurate for this fic.

Josephine Marguerite Griffin was born on October 22nd, 2001. That put her at nineteen years old, five months older than Octavia. Technically a Libra, but only twenty-four hours shy of being a Scorpio.

_I can pull that off,_ Octavia thinks.

Josephine was wrapped around her twin Clarke in nearly every photo of her online. There are few pictures of her with anyone besides Clarke and her parents, and none at all from tenth grade through to her death. Clearly she was attached to Clarke, but otherwise a solitary creature.

_Less people to fool,_ Octavia thinks. _Easier for me._ And much harder on Clarke, certainly, but Octavia's not thinking about things like that just yet.

Josephine was attending a college in Paris. She was pursuing a degree in art, but she wasn't serious about it yet ( _won't be, now_ ) so Octavia doesn't have to cram a whole bunch of art stuff into her studies. However, she _will_ need to learn a passable amount of French.

_I grew up learning Latin, though,_ Octavia thinks. _Another Latin-based language? In one month? ...I'll take those odds._

For that single month is how long she has to become Josephine Griffin. Once that month is up, she'll walk through her front door for literally the first time in her life. Then she'll move into a dorm at a college fourteen hours away with a woman she's never met, and then she'll have to forget everything she's ever known about herself and her family to become someone else entirely. Not the most appealing future in the world, but it's either that or never walk through that front door to begin with. For second children with only one parent, or third children with two parents - hidden children, shadow children - there are no other options.

If she's being honest, she's more excited than apprehensive. It's an open secret in the world that shadow children exist, hence the nickname, and that they enter the world through black market deals for the identities of legal children who are deceased. However, neither Bellamy, Octavia's brother, nor Aurora, Octavia's mother, ever ran in the right circles to be involved in any of that. Her mom has hoped from the moment Octavia was born that someday they'd miraculously stumble upon the right identity, but the older you are, the harder it is to fit you into someone else's life. At nineteen years old, it's all but a pipe dream. So Octavia really is excited about this. She's just... daunted, too.

"How did she die?" Octavia asks gingerly, spinning in her chair at the desktop to face her brother.

Bellamy sits on the couch behind her chair, a vacant look on his face, his hands and attention unoccupied barring whatever must be going on in his head right now. He's been sitting like that since he entered their home two hours ago and told Octavia, mechanically, that Clarke Griffin's sister had died, and that Octavia was invited to, well, become that sister. He doesn't answer her for a few moments, so distracted that Octavia can't tell if he heard her. He's surely got some mixed feelings about it all, and not just because his little sister is suddenly moving out. He and Clarke have been best friends for six years, ever since they met at summer camp. Despite the three-year age difference what with him being a senior and her being a freshman, they hit it off right away. Now that Clarke's lost her own birth-appointed best friend, he must be feeling some kind of secondhand grief.

Technically speaking, Clarke wasn't supposed to know about Octavia's very existence. No one ever was, obviously. But some things are harder than others to keep secret, especially from your closest friend, and Bellamy confessed to Octavia long ago that he suspected that Clarke suspected, though she'd never said so. It became something of an open secret between them, something that went unspoken for Bellamy's peace of mind and Clarke's plausible deniability. That is, until yesterday, when after two weeks of radio silence, Clarke contacted Bellamy and offered, unprompted, to give his sister the identity of her own newly deceased sister.

It's terrible that Clarke's going through this. Of course it is. Octavia's planning to tone down her excitement as much as she possibly can when they finally meet. But the truth is, part of Octavia is guiltily relieved at having not just an identity, bu that particular identity. Because of Clarke's publically well-established friendship with Bellamy, Octavia doesn't have to cut ties with him and her mother the way shadow children normally do for everyone's safety. It won't be suspicious at all for Octavia to meet him through her, join them on their yearly summer road trip, and maybe even visit her soon-to-be former home someday.

"Not sure how," Bellamy says eventually, running a hand through his hair. "Clarke's, uh - she's not - she's not talking about it yet. Not really."

Octavia nods, turning back to the computer. "Do you… know anything about her?" Truthfully, judging by the lack of visible activity in Josephine's social life, Octavia doesn't need to know much beyond what she can find online. But she's a little freaked by how zoned out her big brother is.

Luckily, the more they talk, the more he comes back to himself. She prompts him into a conversation, discussing Josephine the way they might discuss a character on TV or one of Bellamy's coworkers, dissecting her with a casualness that grew less and less forced.

Eventually, they'll have to get back to work on Octavia's new goal of becoming Josephine.

_Not today, though,_ Octavia thinks. _Not yet._

* * *

One month later, in the dead of night, Clarke Daisy Griffin steps out of her car and onto the pavement of the parking lot she agreed to meet them in. She wears a simple but sophisticated sundress and a pair of sandals. Her hair is tied in an artfully messy bun, and her face is embellished by silver eyeshadow and a touch of rouge. There's neither a speck of dust nor a hair out of place. Frankly, she looks like she just stepped out of an unusually formal portrait.

She doesn't look like someone who just lost her twin sister and best friend.

Octavia supposes that's a good thing, since legally, she hasn't.

Clarke strides toward them, her sharp gaze scanning the otherwise empty lot. Her face softens infinitesimally as it lands on Bellamy, but tenses back up when it hits Octavia. Octavia tries not to squirm, but she's never met someone before, so she's not especially successful.

Wordlessly, Bellamy steps forward and wraps his arms around Clarke. Octavia isn't sure where to look - looking away feels awkward and pointed, but there's something very intimate about the hug that makes looking at them feel uncomfortable. She doesn't have long to fuss over it, though; Clarke only reciprocates the hug for a heartbeat before releasing Bellamy and stepping backwards.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke," he says, his voice heavy with genuine grief and sympathy.

"I know," Clarke replies, her voice crisp and businesslike. After a moment, she adds, "Thank you."

Octavia is mildly unnerved by Clarke's lack of reaction. She's not sure whether to be relieved or dismayed when Bellamy seems just as disturbed.

"I already told Octavia this, but you can call me for anything, alright?" Bellamy presses. "And I don't just mean for O. For you, too. Anything at all. Any time. 3 am on a weeknight? You call me, and I'll call in sick for a day or two or however long, and I'll drop everything and drive out to you. Alright?"

Clarke searches his face. For the first time, her face breaks into a human expression: pained, but grateful. "Thank you, Bellamy. I promise I'll call if I need you."

Octavia and Bellamy exchange one final hug goodbye, and then Octavia loads her limited luggage into Clarke's car, and then Clarke gets in the driver's seat and Octavia gets in the passenger's seat, and then they drive away towards the office that will be performing plastic surgery on Octavia's face to make her look more like Josephine.

Immediately, the unfamiliarity of the moment threatens to overwhelm her. Leaving home for the first time had been strange enough, but this is far stranger. For starters, she isn't even peripherally acquainted with this car. Bellamy has never raved about his excitement at acquiring this car, has never complained about a friend spilling something in this car. For another, she doesn't know the woman in the seat beside her. She's never even spoken to her. For a third -

Oh.

That's right.

She still hasn't even spoken to Clarke, has she?

But… what is she supposed to say?

_Hi, I'm Octavia. Nice to meet you, Clarke._ No, no, no. That couldn't be right. Octavia knows that's a standard introduction (she studied those for days) but Clarke already knows her name, and - well, _is it_ nice to meet her? Sure, it's nice for Octavia to meet Clarke, but it can't be nice for Clarke to meet Octavia given the circumstances. Will Clarke feel pressured to respond in kind? Will it be so obviously fake that it makes everything more awkward? Even worse - what if Clarke _doesn't_ respond in kind? That'll be even more awkward.

_I'm sorry for your loss._ No, that's worse. Sure, Octavia genuinely is sorry, if only in a vaguely detached way, but that feels inadequate for the gravity of Clarke's loss. Plus, what if Clarke doesn't believe her? What if Clarke thinks Octavia's making fun of her?

_...Thank you… for -_ No, no, no. No way. God, that's so awful. Octavia thinks she literally couldn't say something more awful. Then again, she's not thinking of many options at all, so the bar's pretty low.

Maybe she should say nothing and hope the silence grows less awkward on its own somehow.

"Do you have a nickname or something?" Clarke asks suddenly. "Something that's not tied to Octavia Blake?"

Octavia frowns, thinking. "Uh…, not really. I can… make something up, if you want?" She's not entirely sure what Clarke's looking for, but she's not asking questions, either. In fact, if there's a single thing she's not willing to do for Clarke right this second with no questions asked, she can't think of it.

Clarke hums noncommittally. Octavia waits patiently until she elaborates, "It's just - Josephine is a long name. Not a name you use in casual conversation. And I can't use you Josie because that's what - " Clarke breaks off, falls silent for a heartbeat, clears her throat. "Well. Anyway, I can't. So we should think of something else to call you."

"What about Jo?" Octavia ventures. "Did you ever call her that? Or - I mean - Is that too similar to J- to... the other nickname?"

"That's kinda like what Bellamy calls you, huh?" Clarke muses.

Octavia nods.

"Jo. Okay. Jo." Clarke's gaze is distant. "Sounds good." She smiles. It's obviously forced. "Nice to meet you, Jo."

Yeah, that's definitely insincere. But Octavia appreciates the sentiment. "Y-You too. Er, Clarke."

"So, Jo, before we get to school…," Clarke swallows, "why don't you tell me what you know about my family?"

Over the next hour, Octavia rattles off as much as she can:

Jake Griffin, Clarke's father, is fifty. He came from old money, which paid his way through first private school, then college, then graduate school. He worked as an engineer for years afterwards, rising through the ranks at the same company all that time. Then, ten years ago, he decided to open up Sanctum University. Thelonious Jaha, a family friend, both contributed the bulk of the funds and stepped up as the chancellor with his background in education. Since then, Mr. Griffin has worked as head of the engineering department.

Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother, is forty-eight. She came from a working class family, aced her classes in public school, and obtained both her undergrad and graduate degrees nearly exclusively with scholarships. She went on to work as a surgeon, but shortly after Jake, she switched to plastic surgery, citing a desire for free time and schedule flexibility so she could teach some classes at the university. (Convenient for Octavia; that's where she's headed now for her medical face-swap.)

Clarke Griffin is nineteen. She was a straight-A student like her mother throughout school barring fourth grade. (Octavia only knows this because a nosy reporter once wrote an article attempting to link it to her parents' career changes.) Once she hit college, she bounced around three different majors in one year: two science-based pre-med majors, then an art major. (This, too, Octavia only knows thanks to nosy journalists.) Now she's in polisci, but she's been studying the textbooks and she feels much better about it than she ever did the others. (That, she knows from Bellamy.)

"You really did your homework," Clarke notes, sounding impressed. "Do you know where mine and Josie's middle names come from?"

"They both mean daisy," Octavia says confidently. "Marguerite is 'daisy' in French." She hesitates, biting her lip. She really wishes her first experience with socialization outside of chatting online with strangers wasn't with the one woman who had the most automatically uncomfortable relationship with her. She'd like to know what the hell she's supposed to be saying and doing and not saying and not doing.

During her studies over the past month, though, she did fit in the time to read some articles about grief and a book, too, or at least the most relevant sections. They all agreed on one thing: one of the worst things you can do is avoid talking about the deceased. Octavia can't do much to make the situation better. Maybe not anything at all. But she is damn well gonna try. So she swallows her trepidation and asks, "So, why'd she like France? Because of her middle name?"

Clarke smiles fondly. It's a little less forced this time.

"Actually, there was this boy in French class in seventh grade…"

* * *

There are two months between Octavia's arrival at Sanctum University, equipped with a brand new face, and the start of school. (She expected to need a new haircut, too, but Dr. Griffin insisted her long, dark hair helped distract from any remaining distinctions between her face and Josephine's.) They get there early so Clarke can walk Octavia through all the typical college things - getting lunch, navigating the school, checking books out of the library. Bellamy and Clarke worked out her schedule so that this semester she'd mostly be among freshmen, she learns soon, which means her nervousness won't look out-of-place. Worst case scenario, Clarke assures her that if anyone calls her out on her strangeness, she can blame it on how recently she was immersed in French culture. Sanctum University has neither a linguistics department nor an impressive study abroad program, so she's unlikely to encounter any French culture enthusiasts.

Once other students begin moving in, Clarke sticks to her side like glue. Among the first arrivals are Jasmine Mason, an aeronautics engineering student who's passionate about going to space someday, and Daniel Lee, whose sarcastic, irascible temperament seems incompatible with his major in nursing. They're Clarke's best friends, and act as a trial run for Octavia. Thankfully, if they notice anything off about her, it's not significant enough for them to mention it. Clarke provides tips and critiques after each hangout, and soon Octavia's ready to venture out into the world and make her own friends.

Throughout everything, Clarke maintains a saintly level of patience in coaching her on blending in. She's also… weirdly adept at masking her grief and pretending everything's normal. Octavia's relieved, in a way, because Clarke's grief couldn't really be explained if it manifested publically, but she's concerned. Isn't grief one of those things you're not supposed to bottle up? She's never felt it herself or known anyone who felt it, so she's no expert, but she _has_ watched a _lot_ of TV. She'd like to help, but… honestly, she doesn't think Clarke wants ger help. She keeps hinting that Clarke should meet up with Bellamy sometime and that she can handle herself for a weekend if Clarke wants to visit him, but Clarke insists she's fine. So Octavia prompts her into more conversations about Josephine. That, however, gets deflected after the first few times. Octavia looks up some more tips, but they're all either pointless (no need to cook for someone with a meal plan) or downright impossible (can't 'let them cry' if they won't…, y'know, cry).

Eventually, Clarke tells her she appreciates the effort, but she's fine, and Octavia should focus on herself. It's pointed enough that Octavia finally gets it: Clarke doesn't want to talk about Josephine to her. Which, in hindsight, should've been obvious. It does hurt a little, but that's totally unfair to Clarke. Octavia has no place feeling hurt when she's the one who took over Josephine's life. So she tries not to.

And she focuses on herself.

Over the first semester of classes, Octavia discovers a few things about herself that she'd never had the opportunity to before.

**1\. She's outgoing.**

"You're heading out again?" Clarke calls out in surprise from her bed.

Octavia shoots her a confused glance from where she's knelt beside the door, tying her shoelaces. "Yeah? Why?"

"Didn't you just get back from coffee with your friends?"

Octavia"s briefly worried that she's made a strange social faux pas, but Clarke sounds baffled, not upset. "Yeah, and now I'm going hiking with Artigas."

Clarke stares. "Aren't you… tired?"

"It was just coffee."

Clarke shakes her head. "That's… a lot."

Now Octavia grows nervous. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, no, don't worry. That's just… It sounds tiring." Clarke shrugs, returning to her book. "You do you, I guess."

**2\. She's hot-headed.**

"It was _not_ 100,000."

The classroom, including Ryker Desai, who stands at the front of the room mid-PowerPoint, falls silent. The teacher, Professor Indra, eyes her contemplatively, but says nothing.

Eventually, Desai regains his voice. "Sorry?"

"The pyramids," Octavia snaps. "They weren't built by 100,000 people. It was like 30,000, max. That's old news."

Desai scoffs. "They were not."

"Yeah, they fucking were." Octavia waits to be scolded for her language, but Indra seems too interested to interrupt.

"Have you actually seen them?" Desai challenges. "Because I've visited the pyramids, and let me tell you, they were _not_ built by 30,000."

" _'Let me tell you'_ \- yeah, okay. You wanna fucking bet?" Octavia opens a new tab on her laptop. "Fifty bucks says you're wrong."

"You're on."

Octavia clicks through a few articles before finding a reliable source. Then she emails it to Desai.

Desai stares blankly as the notification pings on his laptop screen, projected onto the whiteboard so everyone can see. He opens the email. He clicks the link.

"Fucking loser," someone mutters from behind Octavia. She thinks his name is Gabe. She likes him; he doesn't talk much, but he always has good opinions.

"Well, fuck me," Desai says.

"Language," Indra reprimands.

**3\. She's protective.**

"Jo, I'm sure it wasn't intentional," Clarke hisses, tugging on Octavia's sleeve. "Let's get out of here, okay? I really think you should stay inconspicuous - "

"I am," Octavia insists, pulling herself free from Clarke's grip. "No one's gonna see us."

It's the week before finals for the fall semester, and Octavia and Clarke are crammed into the closed stall of a rarely-used bathroom just past midnight with the door shut and locked, peering through the narrow window near the ceiling. It offers a direct view of the garden that Clarke's been tending in her spare time for eighteen months. At least, it would have three days ago, when it was still there. But the day before yesterday, someone stomped right through it. Now they're keeping watch for the culprit.

Octavia doesn't see how anyone could stumble across them here, but she's quickly realizing that many of Clarke's seemingly rational defusions are actually covering up how incredibly conflict-averse Clarke is. She thinks it's from growing up with Josephine; in the few stories she's squeezed out of Clarke, Josie sounded like a real spitfire. Well, Octavia can't bring Josephine back, and she can't take away Clarke's grief, and apparently she can't even help Clarke work through her grief.

This, though? Hunting down whatever asshole had the fucking nerve to trample on Clarke's garden? Yeah, she can do that.

"This is a bad idea," Clarke stresses, in more than one sense of the word. "It's not even important, it's just a garden, I'll start a new one. What are the odds that they'll even show again? It might've been a one-off incident…."

Octavia staunchly ignores Clarke's complaints, and soon the blonde gives up. Then they sit and watch for a while.

Eventually, someone darts through the garden, looks around nervously, then streaks into the neighboring woods.

It's Clarke's friend, Lee.

Immediately, Octavia wishes she hadn't done this after all. It probably would've been better if Clarke never knew who it was. "At least it looks like it was an accident," she says optimistically.

"Sure," Clarke mutters, her eyes suddenly narrowed - in suspicion, not anger. "But what's he up to? Didn't that look shady?"

Octavia's not well-versed enough in human nature to recognize behavior as 'shady.' But it seems to have been a rhetorical question; Clarke leaves the stall immediately and storms from the bathroom, leaving Octavia to jog after her. "Uh, Clarke? Are you confronting him _now_?"

"Yep," Clarke replies shortly. She slips through the door Lee used. 

Octavia follows her into her garden and, alarmingly, into the woods. _What happened to staying inconspicuous?_ She says nothing, though, because part of her is... enjoying this. Huh.

**4\. She's an adrenaline junkie.**

That's why she trails after Clarke, led by distant voices and a well-trodden woodland path. Soon they enter a clearing, wherein five faces snap towards them.

Lee, Octavia expected. Mason's close to him, so her presence is also unsurprising.

But Gabe?

Artigas?

_Desai_?

"What the heck is going on here?" Octavia blurts out, because it _looks_ like some kind of cult.

"That's what I'd like to know, too," Clarke agrees curtly. Her voice is knowing, but her face is stony.

Lee and Mason exchange guilty looks. Desai, however, lifts his chin. "You tell us," he challenges. "Because it seems like you two and your parents built this whole college as a trap."

Shocked, Octavia glances at Clarke. But Clarke is not shocked.

"I tried telling them they're wrong," Lee offers.

"But you can't explain, either," Mason reasons.

"Explain _what_?" Octavia demands.

"Like you don't know," Desai retorts.

"Ryker," Clarke warns sharply.

Gabe glances between Clarke and Octavia. His jaw drops. Octavia knows what he's gonna say right before he speaks. "You're not Josephine."

"What?!" Octavia tries not to panic. "That's crazy - "

"You're a shadow child," Gabe realizes. "Like us."

Octavia opens her mouth to object, but " _Like us_?!" comes out instead.

Lee's eyes widen. "Jesus," he says. "Fuck, Clarke, I'm - "

"So that's what this is?" Clarke interrupts coldly. "You're jeopardizing everything my parents have done for you all - for what? Fun?"

"I - That's not - " Desai stammers.

"Can you blame us?" Artigas calmly cuts in. "Any of us could be executed any day just for existing, and you've gathered us like fish in a barrel."

Clarke flinches. "That's not our intention," she asserts, but the heat has left her voice. She takes a deep breath. "Sanctum isn't a trap. It _was_ designed for shadow children, but only to provide sanctuary. It's a safe place to grow into adults with minimal risk of exposure."

"Then why not just say that?" Desai asks, aghast.

"In case someone gets caught," Clarke answers reluctantly. "Then the police offer them a deal. Maybe they get prison instead of an execution if they name three others. Do you guys really trust every single student not to trade you for your life?"

No one looks at each other.

Clarke sighs. "The damage is done for you six, at least regarding each other. But please, don't bring anyone else into this, okay?"

* * *

Finals week is the worst possible time to start something like this, so by unspoken agreement, they leave each other alone. Then comes winter break. Octavia's surprised by how many go home to their adopted families - Lee (John Murphy) in particular is quietly excited to go home to his ten-year-old sister, Kaylee. He promises to send Clarke pictures, which is apparently routine. Gabe (Nathan Miller) and Artigas (Lincoln Whittle) head home, too, though Lincoln's home is only minutes away with Professor Indra and her daughter Gaia. Mason (Raven Reyes) and Desai (Finn Collins) are the only ones who stick around, but for them, 'sticking around' means staying in the nearby apartment they share.

"In fact," Raven says brightly one day, exchanging grins with Finn, "why don't you two spend break at our place?"

"Really?" Octavia asks. The dorm she shares with Clarke is cozy, but the campus is unsettlingly quiet with so many students gone.

Finn nods. "Sure. Raven and I can share my bedroom for a few weeks. Long as one of you doesn't mind the couch, or sharing the guest bed."

Octavia glances at Clarke, who smiles. "Fine by me," she says. Octavia smiles back. She thinks (hopes) they're getting more comfortable with each other.

* * *

The next few days are some of the best Octavia's had since leaving home. There are movies every night, and lots of video games. Octavia shows off her cooking skill pretty often. (She had to get something out of her extraordinarily isolated childhood, right?) One night they make s'mores using the microwave, turn the couch into a pillow fort, turn off all the lights, and tell ghost stories. Octavia wishes Bellamy were there that night; she tries to replicate the stories he used to tell her, but she doubts she does them justice.

Unlike Raven, who pays her share of the rent by working at the school store which closes when school's out, Finn pays his share via remote, part-time work for his adopted dad's accounting company. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop over break. That's why Octavia, Clarke, and Raven take care to get out of his hair for a few hours every other day, giving him space to do his work.

On one such day in their second week of staying there, however, Octavia forgets her wallet. She's still not used to how many things people carry around when they leave home, and it's harder now that fall classes are over and she doesn't need her backpack with all her school supplies.

That's how she ends up splitting from Clarke and Raven at the mall, walking back to the apartment complex, and approaching the front door of the apartment. Before she lays a hand on the doorknob, however, she hears something that sends her heartbeat skyrocketing.

Her name.

Her _real_ name.

"Yeah, Octavia Blake, she's one of them," Finn says to an unknown listener, his voice just audible through the door. "Her mom's name is Aurora, and her older brother is Bellamy. Same last name. No dad in the picture. She's not another operative, right?"

_Operative?_ Octavia slowly pulls her phone out of her pocket, holds it up to the door, and starts recording.

"...Yeah, that's what I figured. Okay, I'll start feeling her out to see if she knows any other shadow children…. I know the university is the priority, alright? But until I've persuaded Griffin - the real one, obviously - to give me access to the list of students and their birth names, I might as well be working on something else. Hopefully I can make some progress on both fronts while they're rooming with me and Reyes…. Pfft, I'm always careful. Don't worry about me. Worry about the new names I've given you. Lincoln Whittle, Jasper Jordan, Monty Green, Octavia Blake. Alright, I'll give you another update next week. Talk to you then."

That's definitely Octavia's cue. She hastily stops the recording and silently retreats from the apartment.

* * *

" _...another update next week. Talk to you then._ "

Silence falls over the three girls in Clarke's car as the audio clip ends.

Wordlessly, Raven opens the passenger's door, leaves the car, and slams it shut behind her.

"Is she - ?"

"She's not going anywhere," Clarke assures Octavia quietly as Raven strides several feet from the car, deeper into the parking lot. There, she begins to pace back and forth, rubbing her face. "She just… needs a second to process."

Octavia nods. "That's pretty damning, right?"

"Yep."

There's not much else to say, not until Raven returns to the car, evidently finished wearing a hole in the pavement. "He won't have any proof," she states, all business now. "We all turned our phones off when we met those two nights, so no there are no recordings. What do we do, Clarke?"

"Turn him in to my parents," Clarke replies. "Standard protocol, though we've never used that protocol before."

"What about fingerprints?"

They turn to Octavia, alarmed. "Fingerprints," Raven echoes. "Crap. He could get those anywhere, and we'd never even know. Dead giveaways for anyone whose identity got legally fingerprinted before - well. Before becoming our identities."

Clarke thinks for a moment. "I'll call Mom, let her know what's going on. In the meantime, we need to start damage control ASAP. Here's how we do it."

* * *

"Who needs this many socks?" Octavia complains, rummaging through Finn's dresser.

Raven shushes her for the umpteenth time that hour, concentrated on Finn's laptop screen as her fingers dance ceaselessly across the keyboard. "Keep your thoughts in your head," she snaps. "I'm busy."

Octavia tries. She really does.

"...Is this _another_ pair of Avengers socks?"

" _Octavia_!"

"Sorry!"

"No, Octavia, look - I'm in!"

Octavia drops what she's doing and runs over. "Holy crap, you are! Okay, has he sent anything to the home office yet? Anything that incriminates us?"

"I'm looking, I'm looking…. No, I don't think so. Just a bunch of emails from his superiors demanding faster results, dating all the way back to when he first transferred here a year ago." Raven leans back in her chair, visibly relieved. "Bastard's got nothing on us."

"Great," Octavia sighs. "Now we just gotta make sure he's got no physical evidence lying around."

Raven joins her in her investigation of Finn's belongings. Before long, Octavia discovers a false bottom in one of his nightstand drawers. Beneath it is a file full of half-formed fingerprints - failed attempts, maybe. At the bottom, though, is a complete set, labeled 'Raven Reyes.'

Raven takes the document, her expression unreadable. She stands and walks a few paces away, eyes trained on it.

Octavia wonders why they were never submitted. She supposes he was saving Raven for last or something. Maybe he had second thoughts about turning her in.

It doesn't matter, though, because Raven steps into the kitchen, sets the document in a baking pan, and lights a match.

"...Uh," Octavia says blankly, watching the evidence go up in flames. "...You know that he and Clarke are gonna be back in five minutes, right? And he's gonna know that we know? And he's gonna leave immediately?"

"That's okay," Raven sneers, reaching into a cabinet and retrieving a frying pan. She taps it menacingly against her open palm. "I think I can keep him here."

* * *

The door opens.

Finn steps into the apartment.

Raven slams the frying pan against his face.

He stumbles a second, then collapses onto the floor face-first.

Clarke delicately steps over his body, kicks him out of the way, and shuts the door. She looks from Raven, to the frying pan, to Finn. "Alright," she says evenly. "Guess it's time to call Mom and Dad."

* * *

Octavia never learns what Clarke's parents do with Finn Collins. Officially, though, Ryker Desai transfers again to another college. Octavia looks it up, and sure enough, there's a brand new Desai walking around a different campus. She wonders absently how his family is taking the second loss of their only son.

In the wake of Finn's betrayal, spring semester comes and goes without incident. Come summer, Octavia embarks on her first road trip. Raven and Murphy are joining them, too, but since Murphy lives in the dorms, he has to drive his belongings home before he can join them. So Octavia, Clarke, and Raven head out to Octavia's old place in Mr. Griffin's loaned van. Then, with Bellamy, they drive over to the Lee residence to pick up Murphy.

"He texted us," Clarke announces. "Says we should come in for a bit, say hi to his family."

Octavia wrinkles her nose. "Is that a good idea?" Based on her own unbearable experience meeting Clarke's parents, she can't think of many things more awkward than introducing herself to the not-family of another former shadow child.

"I think so," Clarke says, though she's oddly tense. "I've met them before. They're nice. They're great."

Octavia exchanges glances with the other two. "Well, if you're sure."

They exit the car and head up the porch. Despite her assurances, Clarke looks nervous as she knocks on the door. When it opens, though, Octavia can't imagine why she would be nervous.

"Clarke, hello!" Ms. Lee pulls Clarke into a short hug, then steps back, waving them in. "Come in, everyone! I'm John's mother - you can just call me Faye. My husband, Victor, is in the kitchen making lunch. You're all free to stay if you like, of course, there's always leftovers." She shakes each of their hands in turn. "You must be Jasmine, Jo, and Bellamy. John and Clarke have told me about you."

_They have?_ Octavia wonders dubiously. She's not sure what's stranger: the idea of Clarke talking to someone else's not-family slash maybe-genuinely-attached-family about her friends, or Murphy talking to literally anyone about them.

" _CLARKE_!"

A short, dark-haired blur darts out of the hallway and slams into Clarke. Startled, Octavia instinctively steps backwards, as do Bellamy and Raven.

"Madi, let her breathe," Murphy huffs from the aforementioned hallway. He nods at them. "Hey, guys. As you've probably guessed, that's my little sister."

"Your sister… Kaylee?" Raven says slowly, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Right. Kaylee. Except…"

"Except," Clarke interjects, more jovial than she's been all year as she manages to lift the ten-year-old into a hug, "she was actually my sister first."

Murphy scowls, but his voice is light-hearted as he teases. "Oh, that's how it is? We're playing the seniority game now? Classy, Griffin."

Clarke ignores him. "Everyone, this is my little sister, Madi Griffin."

Octavia's brain short-circuits for a second. Then, as this new information slots into her mind like the final piece in a pizzle she's been subconsciously building all along, she says, " _Of course_."

"Sorry? 'Of course?'" Raven gestures emphatically at Clarke and Madi. "Why is this not more shocking to you?"

Octavia doesn't get the chance to answer as Clarke releases Madi, leaving the younger girl to step towards them. She waits with bated breath as Madi looks her up and down. _Jesus, this is so much more uncomfortable than meeting Josephine's parents._ Because Madi isn't just Clarke's sister. She is - was - Josephine's, too. Josephine, after whom Octavia's face literally has been modeled.

"It's nice to meet you," Madi says, sticking her hand out.

Octavia blinks, taking her hand on autopilot. "Yeah, you too."

Madi politely shakes Bellamy's and Raven's hands, too. Then she says, "So which of you are shadow children?"

"Me and Octavia," Raven responds, gesturing to the latter.

Madi nods, turning back to Octavia. "So you're… kind of my new sister now?" She's taking this a lot better than Octavia expected her to. Then again, she's had nearly a year to come to terms with this. Maybe it's not so weird.

Unintentionally, her eyes drift to Clarke's. Clarke smiles at her and shrugs. _Up to you, Jo._

"I guess I am," Octavia says to Madi.

_I can pull that off,_ Octavia thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Constructive criticism is very welcome. Don't forget to check out the other fics and vote for your favorites!


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